


It Comes Rushing Back

by sendricamp



Category: Pitch Perfect
Genre: trigger warning: sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sendricamp/pseuds/sendricamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aubrey wishes it had just been a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Comes Rushing Back

The first thing that flew back into her mind was her father yelling. He was blaming her mother for it, because she had been the one to leave her home with the man. She couldn’t remember his name, but her father was mad because the man had been a close friend -- someone he trusted. They were supposed to be able to trust him with everything, including their daughter. He had been yelling about a phone call. A phone call that she had made to her mother at work. Telling her everything.

Aubrey sat up, a scream caught in her throat, and she flinched when there were arms around her. There was the familiar scent of peaches, and a blur of red hair that was tangled from falling asleep wet. She felt sticky -- covered in sweat -- and all of a sudden Chloe’s voice broke through the haze of the nightmare. “Bree, it’s okay.” Chloe was placing kisses on the side of her head, then her cheeks and then her lips. “It was a nightmare.”

She pulled away, falling back onto the bed, pulling the sheet closer to her. “I don’t think it was,” she mumbled, turning to look at her wife. “I think...” She shook her head, closing her eyes. The yelling was still in her ears -- the blaming. She felt Chloe curl up next to her again, their usual sleeping position, and her arm immediately moved to wrap around her shoulders. “Just a nightmare, right?” Her fingers traced light circles on Chloe’s bare skin, hearing the woman’s breathing even out as she fell back asleep.

Chloe was right. It was just some nightmare that her brain concocted, using her memories of her parents fighting against her. They were always fighting, up until the day her father died. Aubrey remembered hoping that once the marriage had ended, they would have become somewhat civil towards each other, but then the fighting got worse as she grew older, becoming more and more what her father wanted and what her mother hated.

She looked at the clock, squinting to make sure she was reading the time right. 05:38. It would be almost nine in the morning in New York. Taking care not to wake Chloe, she slid out of the bed, finding a long shirt and putting it on before grabbing her phone and heading into the living room of the hotel suite. Scrolling through her contacts, she tapped on her mothers name before pressing the phone to her ear. She looked at her left hand, the ring sparkling on her finger in the dim light. A small smile crossed her face, dropping as soon as the phone connected.

“Mom?” Her voice sounded too childlike for her taste, silently chastising herself for being unable to block her feelings.

“Aubrey? I thought you were in Los Angeles. Your honeymoon,” Deborah said, confusion creeping in on her voice. Aubrey knew it was justified. She rarely reached out first in contact with her mother.

“Chloe’s asleep,” she said, opening the glass door and stepping into the shockingly warm air. “I just had this... dream.” She was quiet for a moment, thankful that her mother knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t done. “It seemed more like a memory, but it is slightly blurry around the edges.”

The line remained silent for almost a minute. “What was it about?”

Aubrey sighed, closing her eyes. “That’s the problem. I only have small parts. You and dad... you were fighting.” She paused. “I mean, he was yelling at you. I was five... maybe six.” She didn’t miss the intake of breath on the other end. “You know what I am referring to, don’t you?”

“You blocked it out, so we never thought to tell you,” she replied, Aubrey picking up on guilt, sadness and pain in her voice.

“Tell me,” she choked out, sitting on one of the chairs. “There was a man... he was someone you trusted...”

“Robert. He worked with your father. Aubrey, you have to understand that we thought it was best if we didn’t tell you. It was almost as if the entire thing had never happened. You were six, and you just went back to being six the next day.”

Aubrey choked back a sob, not wanting her composure to break. “He touched me, didn’t he?” she asked, noticing that her hand was shaking. She closed her eyes, images and words flashing in her brain. The words appeared almost instantly, her small voice filled with tears. “He showed me how to make it grow.”

“You sounded so scared,” Deborah choked out. Aubrey couldn’t recall a single time her mother had been reduced to tears before now. “I was almost an hour away. I told my boss that I was giving my two weeks, and I called your father. I told him what you said, and he told me that he would handle it. By the time I got home, the police had taken Robert away and you were in your room, asleep.”

Hearing a noise, Aubrey looked up, watching as Chloe sat in front of her, confusion spreading across her face. “Dad blamed you,” she said, tears falling from her eyes. “You were the one that suggested I be left in his care and you were the one blamed for it.”

“We trusted him.”

“You trusted him,” Aubrey repeated, “but then he... molested me. How could you just stand there and take the blame for something he did? If you and dad both trusted him, then why were you the one to blame?” she asked, fingers linking with Chloe’s. She hadn’t missed the look of shock that had taken over Chloe’s features.

“I blamed him just as much, Aubrey. Robert admitted to everything, so there was no need to keep you involved,” she said. “Please, Aubrey, know that we thought we were doing what was best for you. He went away, it is in the past so you cannot change it... just try to enjoy what you have right now, alright?”

Aubrey nodded, closing her eyes and chuckling at herself when she realized there was no way her mother could see that. “Alright.” Pausing, she held onto Chloe’s hand a little tighter. “Mom?”

“Yes, Aubrey?”

“I love you.” It felt strange, hearing the words come from her mouth. It wasn’t a phrase that was passed between them that often, but the fight that had taken place just days before her father died had changed something in her. She found herself _wanting_ to tell her mother that she was loved. She didn’t want the feeling of something unfinished between the two of them.

“I love you, too, Aubrey.”

She ended the call, setting her phone down before looking at Chloe. “How much did you hear before I noticed you?” she asked, her voice soft.

Chloe shrugged. “Enough,” she replied, standing up, pulling Aubrey with her. She used her thumb to wipe the tears from Aubrey’s face, smiling sadly as new ones immediately replaced them. “The past is the past,” she mumbled, her arms sliding around Aubrey’s waist, resting her forehead in the crook of her wife's neck. “You can’t change it, but you can work past it. We can work past it.”

Aubrey held Chloe -- tightly -- as she let herself cry. She felt weak, but in the presence of the redhead, she could find it acceptable. “I wanted it to just be a dream,” she cried, letting Chloe lead her to the bedroom. She let Chloe remove the shirt, for the first time realizing the redhead hadn’t even bothered to find clothing before coming to her. “What woke you up?”

“I heard you crying,” she replied, shrugging as she followed Aubrey underneath the covers. “Lay down, cry... we can turn today into a lay in bed together one,” she said, smiling before leaning over to place a gentle kiss on Aubrey’s lips. “I love you, Aubrey.”

“I love you, too, Chlo.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like including this... the event that Aubrey recalls is pulled directly from my life. For the longest time, I had blocked it out, but when it came rushing back, it hit me like a truck. A close -- and trusted -- family friend had been watching me, and he sexually abused me on levels greater than this fic demonstrates. I only recently remembered this happening, and am working through it... partially by writing this fic.


End file.
